doris delay
Bluelighter
last night I woke up dreaming;
his sloppy proposal
laid out on a double bed.
He said I looked like a young Drew Barrymore,
(I think I’m more of a Jay Leno,
or Roger Ramjet), YEAH, our overstated, heroic chins
I guess I’m virile, masculine,
basically dead meat.
I drop and give him twenty,
his hands falling all around me
like a nightmare. my brother’s in the next room,
with the Atari.
I think, “what are the chances
he’ll open the door?”
I’m a recovering Christian,
I lived for six years with a skeleton key
pressed against my throat
I spent nights in front of the refrigerator
with my legs open. I know black magic,
I said. I ride horses, I said.
I know, I know.
Last year he invited me to his wedding.
but I’m a much better dancer now.
his sloppy proposal
laid out on a double bed.
He said I looked like a young Drew Barrymore,
(I think I’m more of a Jay Leno,
or Roger Ramjet), YEAH, our overstated, heroic chins
I guess I’m virile, masculine,
basically dead meat.
I drop and give him twenty,
his hands falling all around me
like a nightmare. my brother’s in the next room,
with the Atari.
I think, “what are the chances
he’ll open the door?”
I’m a recovering Christian,
I lived for six years with a skeleton key
pressed against my throat
I spent nights in front of the refrigerator
with my legs open. I know black magic,
I said. I ride horses, I said.
I know, I know.
Last year he invited me to his wedding.
but I’m a much better dancer now.
